


Unexpected Gifts

by NephilimEQ



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Background Relationships, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Complete, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Knotting, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn (kinda), The Pack Knows, everyone knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: Stiles wants Derek to finally have a good Christmas, and since the pack is all living in one house, Derek's house, then it should be perfect! ...but why is Derek acting weird around him? And why do the girls keep on looking at the two of them whenever they're in a room together?Also known as the story where two idiots finally get their heads out of their asses just in time for a Christmas miracle.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 226
Collections: The Sterek Secret Santa - Edition 2020





	1. It Starts With Christmas Decorations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tails89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tails89/gifts).



Stiles balanced precariously on the ladder, adjusting the garland that he was strategically placing in the center of the doorway. Sure, Derek _claimed_ he wasn’t in the holiday spirit, but that didn’t mean that he had to pull the fun out of it for everyone else in the pack. This was their first Christmas where there wasn’t something trying to kill them, so he was taking advantage of it, gosh darn it!

Well, sure it was only a few days before Thanksgiving, but Stiles was planning on enjoying the holidays early, so to hell with Derek and his Grinch and Scrooge-like attitude.

He heard a snort and looked down and saw Erica looking up at him, a smirk on her perfectly red lips as she emerged from the kitchen with a bag of chips in her hand.

“Derek know what you’re doing?” she asked, an eyebrow arched, and Stiles replied, “Nope! And you’re not gonna tell him. He’s not back until eight,” he added as he got down from the ladder, “Which means we have three hours to get this place put into shape.”

She snorted.

“Yeah, because I was planning on sharing a grave with you. Nothing doing, Riding Hood,” she said, and Stiles rolled his eyes at hearing her nickname for him. “If you’re gonna decorate the house, I’ll let you live with the bodily harm that follows.”

He glared at her as he moved the ladder over to another doorway and picked up another sprig of mistletoe and, as he ascended the ladder, said, “He’d never hurt me, I’m not one of you. You guys heal, I don’t, so I think I’m pretty safe from anything he might want to do to me,” and she laughed and said, “Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that,” and then wandered into the living room, while he stuck his tongue out at her back as she walked away.

He went back to decorating, fully annoyed that none of the pack was offering to help him. Instead, they had all piled onto the couch and the floor in front of the couch and were watching some sort of horror film that they were giggling at, and then throwing chips and popcorn at the tv when they saw inaccuracies.

Stiles rolled his eyes as Isaac burrowed into his head into Erica’s shoulder, who patted him on the back reassuringly while she was sprawled on top of Boyd.

Scott, Liam, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson were all on the floor, Liam in the middle of the two couples, his feet in Lydia’s lap and his head on Allison’s thighs, looking the most bored out of the five of them. Stiles smiled at seeing them being nice to their newest member. He’d showed up in town about six months before, and now it was as if he had always been a part of the pack and it was nice to see Jackson being nice to the newbie, as well as everyone else. For some reason, Jackson was remarkably protective of the youngest member of their pack, and everyone found it amusing.

Right at that moment, however, Stiles noticed that even though Jackson had one arm around his girlfriend’s waist, his other free hand lingered on Liam’s ankle, his thumb absently stroking back and forth.

Stiles grinned and then slowly got down from the ladder as he heard the front door open.

“You’re cleaning up all the food you threw at the tv!” Derek yelled as he kicked the door closed behind him, “I can smell the popcorn and chips!”, and then he walked into the living room…and he froze.

He watched Derek’s eyes as they scanned around the room, the bag with four two-liters of soda in it hanging forgotten on one arm, his phone in his hand, his thumb stopped mid-scroll of something that he’d been looking at as he’d walked into the house, and he watched as the alpha eventually brought his gaze full circle back to him. He threw out his arms and smiled brightly.

“Whaddaya think, big guy? Isn’t it great?” he said, unable to keep the glee from his words.

Derek was silent.

In the middle of the silence there was the sound of a saw buzzing on the screen and then the sound of someone screaming as a limb was cut off in a spray of blood and guts, and Stiles could feel the nervousness settling in. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have gone and decorated so impulsively, but he knew that if he’d tried to get permission, it never would have happened, so he hadn’t had a choice.

And then, from the corner of the couch, Scott said, “We told him not to do it, Derek. None of us helped, we swear!” and Stiles shot a murderous glare at him.

He then looked back at Derek, who had finally closed his mouth.

But then he said…

“It looks nice, Stiles. Thanks.”

And then disappeared down the hall to the kitchen, while the pack looked on in shock. Feeling triumphant, Stiles pumped his arm in the air, did a little jump, and then shouted, “Boo yah! _Told_ ya, bitches! I’m untouchable _and_ he liked it!”

Lydia muttered something under her breath that Stiles couldn’t hear, but, of course, the rest of the pack could, and they all burst out into fits of laughter, and he was annoyed with them once more.

“Okay, seriously?” he groused, walking over and retrieving the ladder and folding it up. “You guys can’t keep doing that, you know! It’s very rude to those of us without superhuman hearing!”, but she simply rolled her eyes and looked up at him and said, “Sweetie, you are adorably clueless. Now, how about you go and help him with the rest of the groceries?”

He scoffed, opened his mouth to try and say something…but nothing came out, so he ducked out, not meeting anyone’s eyes, and then grabbed as many bags as he could, ignoring the eye roll that Derek sent in his direction as he walked into the kitchen, struggling with the bags, one of them nearly cutting off the circulation in his left arm. He got them onto the counter and then went to get a few more, but one glare from Derek kept him in the kitchen.

Derek came back a minute later with the rest of the bags, not even breaking a sweat and Stiles started to unpack them, saying, “Okay, fine, keep on showing off your werewolf strength, but you and I both know that if it wasn’t for me, you’d have been making two more trips.”

Derek snorted, as if amused, and the two of them finished unpacking all of the food.

The pack was currently staying at Derek’s house, which had been completely renovated and rebuilt over the past year, and every one of them had a bedroom. Except for Stiles, of course, who still lived at home with his dad, but he didn’t mind.

However, it still bothered him a little bit, considering not only had Allison moved in, her and Scott sharing a room, but Lydia had also moved in, sharing a room with Jackson on the second floor.

Erica and Boyd had their own attic bedroom, and Isaac and Liam were sharing a room as platonic roommates. Stiles had it on good authority, though, that Isaac regularly snuck over to Scott and Allison’s room, and Liam tended to disappear at night for several hours and had been seen sneaking out of Jackson and Lydia’s room in the wee hours of the morning. Stiles actually found it all rather adorable, though he wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t feel a little bit left out of the pack.

Stiles was over as often as possible, of course, but he still felt the need to keep an eye on his dad. It was more instinct than anything else, but he trusted his gut instinct, because it had never steered him wrong, and he just had the feeling that his dad needed him at home for a little while longer.

Derek, as he was putting away the milk, suddenly asked, “So, are you coming over for Thanksgiving this year? Or are you going to spend it with your dad?”

Stiles stopped in the middle of putting away a box of mac and cheese and answered, “Uh, yeah, I, uh…hadn’t really thought about it. Dad’s schedule is kinda weird right now, what with them trying to hire a new deputy and all, and so…yeah. Dunno. I mean, I’d _like_ to,” he stressed, not wanting to give the alpha the wrong impression, “But I’m not sure what it’s going to be like…”

His voice drifted, and then he quickly added, “Uh, what are you and the pack planning? I wasn’t aware that you guys had plans for it.”

Derek shrugged and kept on putting away, groceries, Stiles resuming it, as well.

“I thought I could convince them to celebrate. When…when mom was alive, we used to have a really huge meal, invite all the cousins, eat way too much food in the middle of the day, and then spend the rest of the day working it off by running around the property in our shifts. And then come back after to eat even more food,” he added with a faint smile on the corner of his lips, and Stiles briefly marveled at the fact that Derek was offering up such personal information about himself so easily.

Derek then coughed and said, “You know, something like that. I’ll have to spend an obscene amount of money to feed them all, but you know--”

“You actually _have_ an obscene amount of money,” Stiles supplied, and Derek ducked his head as if embarrassed, but then nodded. “So, why don’t you spend it and go all out for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year?” Stiles goaded. “This is one of the few times of year where things quiet down, and it’s the first time in a long time that everyone is here at the same time. Let’s spoil ourselves.”

He gave Stiles a look, with that infamous eyebrow arch, but the look had no effect on him.

Instead, he said, “Not only can we have an awesome Thanksgiving, but we can go out and get special presents for everyone in the pack for Christmas. I’ll help you pick stuff out.”

Derek still seemed suspicious, but then let out a sigh, rolled his eyes, and said, “Alright. Fine.”

Yes!

\--

The next day, Stiles got there nice and early and was amused when Lydia opened the door looking pissed off, still in her pajamas and growled out, “Get him _out_ of here, Stiles. And don’t ever come by this early again,” and he slipped past her into the house, noticing that she was the only one not looking awake and that was how he discovered that Lydia Martin was _not_ a morning person.

Derek appeared at the top of the stairs and Stiles swallowed.

He was wearing dark wash jeans that fit him _just_ right and a dark gray henley that only emphasized the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist.

Stiles had a hunch that even if Derek wasn’t a werewolf, that he would still look as hot as he did right at that moment. He tried to ignore it as best he could and said, “Hey, uh, you ready to go?” and Derek nodded and replied, “Yeah, just let me grab my keys,” to which Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes and said, “Nuh uh. We’re taking my car, sourwolf. Your car won’t hold everything, and you know it.”

The werewolf gave him a look, to which Stiles responded, “Don’t give me the eyebrows of judgment,” and brushed past him and tossed back at him, “And bring a coat!”

Soon enough they were at the largest department store in Beacon Hills and Stiles was sticking close to Derek’s shoulder, a list in one hand, reading off what he had figured out so far in terms of gifts.

“Okay, I’ve a gift certificate for Allison, Lydia, and Erica to the new spa that just opened up. After saving the owner from that witch, they felt beholden to us, so I took _shameless_ advantage of it,” he said. He then continued with, “…And I got Jackson one, too. I know him far too well,” at which Derek snorted. “I’m thinking about a new scarf for Isaac, some comic books for Scott, a notebook for Boyd, our little closet poet,” he couldn’t help but tease, “And Liam…well, I thought I could just give him cold hard cash. I don’t know him as well as I’d like to.”

Derek muttered as he fingered the edge of a sweater on a table, “He likes science fiction…”

Stiles stopped and gave him a look.

“And since when do you talk to Liam?” he prodded, slightly amused, but also curious, and Derek rolled his eyes and said, “I’m training him, remember? He spends a lot of time with me and Isaac, and I’ve gotten to know them pretty well. The two of them actually have a lot of the same interests,” he added, giving him a wry look, “So you might want to rethink the scarf.”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, please. Don’t make me buy _more_ stuff. Unlike you, my budget is limited. Like, _really_ really limited.”

But he made a note of it anyway on his list, and then skipped a couple steps ahead so that he was in front of Derek and put a hand on his chest to stop him and said, “So, what about you, big guy? What do you want for Christmas?”

He noted that Derek’s eyes widened slightly, and if it had been anyone else, they might not have noticed his surprise, but Stiles noticed it and wondered what it meant.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally answered, “Uh…I don’t know. I mean, for me, having the pack is good enough. I don’t…I don’t really need anything.”

While Stiles found it incredibly endearing and adorably sweet, he rolled his eyes and said, “As sweet as that is, which it _totally_ is, don’t get me wrong…I didn’t ask you if you _needed_ anything; I asked you what you _wanted._ I mean, that’s a tall order, granted, considering the fact that you are loaded with money, have a perfect body, have a huge house, and a pack that completely and utterly adores you, even when you’re being a total grump, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not entitled to something fun and frivolous…”

At that, Derek chuckled and removed Stiles’ hand from his chest and said, “I’ll need to give it some thought,” but, again, Stiles felt like Derek was holding something back.

He decided not to push it, however, as he saw the slight tension in the older man’s jaw that told him that he was only a few words away from irritating him to death. Instead, he helped Derek put together his own list for the pack, and then they were off to the grocery store.

As soon as they were inside, Stiles couldn’t help but ask, “So, uh…why did Lydia beg me to get you out of the house? You being a grump again?”

Derek huffed and answered as he pulled out a cart from the front, “I didn’t exactly sleep well, so I was up kinda early and was working out--”

“Dude, you don’t need to work out,” Stiles interrupted, and Derek glared at him and finished, “--I was working out and dropped a weight. I woke up Lydia and she apparently can’t get back to sleep once she’s been woken up, so she’s been mad at me all morning for ruining her usual ten hours of sleep.”

Stiles snorted and nodded.

“Yep. That sounds like Lydia.”

The matter was dropped, and they started their heavy-duty grocery shop for Thanksgiving. Everything was going well, the two of them finding everything they needed for Thanksgiving, but when Derek started to reach for the frozen pies, Stiles slapped his hand away with an affronted look.

“Dude! We are _not_ having frozen pie! This is Thanksgiving!”

“And I don’t bake,” Derek deadpanned back at him, once more reaching for the pie, but Stiles pulled his hand back a second time and scolded, “Maybe _you_ don’t bake, sourwolf, but I _do._ Now, let me take us to the baking aisle, so you can see what real Polish desserts are all about. My grandmother taught me everything I know, and I’ll have you know that I am the _best_ at it.”

Stiles felt smug as he led them to the right aisle, for once looking forward to cooking a pie and traditional Polish desserts for more than just himself and his dad.

He hadn’t actually had the chance over the past few holidays because there was usually some big and scary supernatural entity occupying their time, but now he had a unique chance to do something that he loved to do to show how much he cared about the people in his life: he would cook for them.

The rest of the shopping trip consisted of the two of them arguing over whether or not to get fresh ingredients, to whether they should get creamy or crunchy peanut butter (they ended up getting both), all the way to whether or not it was absolutely imperative that Stiles make the dough from scratch (he insisted that had to and finally managed to convince Derek to go along with it, so long as Derek was allowed to help choose which ingredients went into the faworkis; they picked blueberries and raspberries).

By the time they were back at the Jeep, Derek was carrying most of the bags while Stiles gave him an arched look as they put all the bags into the back, silently pointing out that taking the Jeep was the better idea, as there was no way that all of this would have fit in the cramped trunk of the Camaro.

As soon as they were home, they noticed that the pack was nowhere to be found.

Stiles read off the note that they’d taped to the fridge as Derek brought the bags into the kitchen.

““Got bored, headed to the lake to go for a swim. Be back whenever.” Gee, that’s real swell of them,” Stiles said, ripping it up, recognizing Scott’s handwriting. “How much you wanna bet that they scampered as soon as they heard the car on the road so that they wouldn’t have to help us with the groceries?”

Derek shot him a look as he brought in the last bag, to which Stiles replied, “Okay, fine, _you_ brought in the groceries, but I’m the one who’s doing all the cooking, dude.”

At that, Derek countered, “I’m not _completely_ inept in the kitchen, you know. I can handle a turkey and some stuffing.”

“Good,” Stiles shot back. “Then you can do the turkey and the stuffing. And I will somehow wrestle Liam and Isaac into helping with the potatoes, because I _not_ going to peel all those potatoes by myself. Your pups can pull their weight in this little holiday endeavor.”

“What about the rest of the pack?” Derek asked, pulling out the food and putting it away. “You gonna wrangle them into helping, too?”

Stiles shook his head and remarked, “Nope. Scott can’t cook, for one, and for two, I know there is _no_ way I am going to let them touch my food.” Derek arched an eyebrow at him. “Our food,” Stiles quickly corrected. “I just…I know that the rest of them have little to no self-control, besides maybe Allison and Lydia, but they’re not kitchen people. I have witnessed both of them burning food on multiple occasions. _So,_ ” he emphasized by waving around a frozen bag of vegetables, “I am going to take point on the cooking. And all the taste-testing, too.”

Derek seemed slightly amused by that.

Stiles brushed it off and decided to go ahead and start with laying out what he would need to make the dough for the faworkis. They would take a while to make, and it had been a few years since he’d made them, so he needed to brush up on his skills.

Derek threw a couple of frozen pizzas into the oven and not thirty minutes later, just as the pizzas were just coming out, they heard the thundering of steps on the front porch.

Pups were home.

Scott, Isaac, Liam, Boyd, and Jackson stumbled in first, still slightly damp and still in their swimming trunks, practically scrambling over each other to get to the pizza that Derek had put on the island, while Stiles watched in amusement as Derek tried to reprimand them, and then Allison, Erica, and Lydia came trailing behind them, the three of them completely dry and covered, and rolling their eyes at the boys. Just as they approached the counter, Stiles laughed as they all parted for Lydia, who deftly slipped between them and made enough space for the other two girls to slide in next to her, the three of them commandeering the stools, as well as forcing the guys to use the paper plates that Derek had put out for them.

They all started talking at once, and Stiles could tell that Derek was already getting a headache, so he quickly stepped in and shouted, “Yo! All of you shut it! You’re giving both of us a headache over here, only Derek’s too nice to say it. Too loud, capiché?”

Jackson merely snorted and rolled his eyes while Lydia arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, but everyone else looked properly reprimanded.

Derek then moved next to Stiles and said into his ear, “Thanks,” and Stiles shrugged and replied, “Anytime,” and patted his shoulder.

“Aww, look at that,” said Jackson from where he sat on the counter holding a slice of the meat lovers in one hand, “Mom and dad are co-parenting. It’s touching, really.”

Lydia pinched his knee and gave him another one of her signature looks and then said in a reassuring tone, though somehow still teasing them at the same time, “I think it’s sweet. Besides, they _are_ the ones who made us dinner and are making Thanksgiving dinner, too, if I’m not mistaken,” she added, looking pointedly at the counter behind them that still had a few bags on the counter.

Liam looked up from his own food at that, gave a look at Boyd who was at his elbow, and then asked, “Wait, are you guys really making Thanksgiving dinner?”

Derek nodded, and Stiles said, “Derek’s doing the turkey and stuffing, and I’m doing the rest. Speaking of which, you and Isaac are helping me with the potatoes. I need someone to peel them, and you guys have the wolfie endurance for such an arduous task. And you’re the youngest.”

At his words, both Liam and Isaac groaned, but they didn’t put up a fight about it, and Stiles felt a small surge of confidence.

Things were falling into place.


	2. Biting Off More Than He Could Chew...Literally and Figuratively

Okay, so maybe he had celebrated too soon, Stiles thought to himself as he scrambled to finish mashing the potatoes that Isaac and Liam had peeled for him. Dinner was supposed to be in ten hours, and though he had finished all of the vegetable dishes, he still had to finish the potatoes and then all of the faworkis, and he wasn’t sure that he could do it in time.

Derek already had the turkey all set up and ready to go and had premade the stuffing the night before and all it needed was to be reheated.

God, Stiles _knew_ he shouldn’t have made such a big promise.

But he didn’t complain as he continued to mash the potatoes into oblivion, casting a quick glance over the recipe book, double checking that he had made enough for the _entire_ pack. He had to practically quadrouple every recipe that said it could feed a family of six, because he knew how much each one of them really ate. And even though neither Allison nor Lydia were werewolves, he knew what they were like and knew that he had to make sure that there was enough food for them.

His shoulders were sore from all of the mashing, as he’d made an obscene amount of mashed potatoes, and he sighed in relief as he managed to finish mashing the last bowl. There were now five large bowls filled with mashed potatoes, and Stiles just prayed that it would be enough.

He threw it in the fridge and then turned his attention to the dessert. Faworkis. One of his favorite Polish desserts.

He pulled out the first bowl of dough that he had put into the fridge to rise and started to roll it out, and just as he started, Derek walked in.

He took a look around the kitchen and then said, “So…need some help?” and Stiles immediately answered, “Normally I would kick you out of the kitchen and not let you even _touch_ them until I was finished with them, but right now, I could really use your help. Here,” he said, tossing an apron in Derek’s direction, “Put this on and take the other bowl of dough and just watch what I do and copy me, okay? I’ve got nine hours until they have to be done and I forgot how time consuming they can be.”

Derek seemed surprised but tied off the apron around his waist and Stiles couldn’t help but smile a little at seeing him in a bright green apron that said, _“Kiss Me, I’m Irish”._

Stiles rolled out the dough and got to work, looking up every now and then to check on Derek.

At one point, he went over and gently adjusted Derek’s hands on the roller and said, “You’re doing good with pressure, but you need to keep it more even. Press down from the elbow through the wrist, not from the shoulders,” he corrected him, trying to ignore the faint heat that rose in his cheeks at feeling his hands fitting almost perfectly over the alpha’s.

Derek turned his head slightly, their mouths suddenly only an inch or two apart and breathed out, “Like this?”

Unable to trust himself to say anything, Stiles swallowed, nodded, and then quickly pulled back and went back to his side of the counter and proceeded to start to cut out the proper size pieces for rolling, the fruit in a bowl right next to him.

Derek followed his lead and Stiles smiled to himself as he saw him doing it almost expertly, easily picking up on what Stiles was doing. They didn’t say anything, but nothing needed to be said, and they had the background noises of the rest of the pack making a general ruckus around the house. Even though he didn’t have superhuman hearing like the rest of them, he could hear Erica and Isaac roughhousing in the living room, and the rest of the girls and Scott were just upstairs listening to some annoyingly peppy music.

He wasn’t sure about the rest of them, but it was enough to have him feeling a warmth in his chest at the domesticity of it all.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking on his part.

Stiles had had a crush on Derek for _years_ , but he knew better than to think it was reciprocated. He knew that he was still part of the pack, but not quite the same as everyone else, he mused to himself as he grabbed the fruit and started to roll it inside the cut dough. He was an outlier of the pack, not really the same as the rest of them.

He knew that, and had been okay with it for a long time, but at the beginning of the year he’d thought that things were changing, and he remembered the last day that they’d worked together on the house--

_\--Derek rolled his eyes as he effortlessly lifted the massive front door and put it into place, saying, “You know, Stiles, you’re the only one who kept on showing up after the first week of renovations. This house is yours already,” but he shook his head and watched Derek’s shoulders bulge as he finally put the door down, and said, “Nah, not really. It’s for the pack, not me, big guy.”_

_The alpha shot him a look, his brow furrowed, but then shook his head and reached down and finished tightening the bolts and the hinges, making sure that everything was secure._

_“I mean it. You’ve worked harder than any of them to make my house a home again.” He then stood back and up and moved over to Stiles’ side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This is yours, too. Ours.”_

_He was taken aback by the sheer intensity and honesty in the man’s eyes, so Stiles licked his lips and swallowed._

_“Uh…thanks? I think? I mean,” he quickly broke the tension, “If you’re just saying this to put my name on the deed and make me pay for utilities, nice try, Der.”_

_Derek chuckled, patted him one more time, and then turned and headed back into the house for the shop vac to clean up what was left of the sawdust on the first floor, and Stiles watched his back as he retreated, swallowing a second time, unsure of what Derek was trying to say, because it had felt like he was trying to say something without actually_ saying _it._

_By the time they were done cleaning the house, Derek seemed back to his old self and Stiles felt like they were once more where they had been when they had first started working on the house together. It was nice and reassuring and familiar…but then as they stood outside admiring the finished work, Derek shoved his shoulder against Stiles’, as if trying to throw him off balance, and Stiles shoved him right back, which, of course, had no effect, as he was completely immovable._

_“Dude, what was that for?” he asked, rubbing his sore shoulder._

_Derek shrugged._

_“Dunno. Just felt like it.”_

_And then he gave him one of those almost, not-quite-a-smile looks, and Stiles just shook his head. He’d never understand why Derek did half the things he did, but he was glad that Derek thought of him as part of the pack, even though he hadn’t built him a room. Stiles was still a bit steamed about that._

_Derek then said, “It’s yours and mine, Stiles. C’mon, let’s carve our names on the inside of the door, between the hinges,” and he walked back up the porch dragging Stiles by the wrist behind him, which he found slightly amusing. He followed him up to the door and watched as Derek opened it all the way and revealed where the hinges came together, and then popped a claw and carved his name, Derek James Hale. He then looked up at Stiles and arched an eyebrow and handed him a pocketknife. “Your turn.”_

_Stiles arched an eyebrow right back at him._

_“You want my_ full _name? Or just the abbreviation? Because if we’re talking full name, then you might wanna take a seat, it’s gonna be awhile,” and Derek just rolled his eyes at him._

_“Just do it, Stiles.”_

_Grinning, he took the knife and managed to get his full name into the wood between two of the other hinges and smiled when he was done. Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski._

_Derek came over and looked at it, and then took back his pocketknife and said, “Hope you didn’t wear down the blade,” and Stiles made a face at him, they both chuckled, and then Stiles was once more taken off guard when the alpha traced his fingers over where Stiles had carved his name. Not knowing why, Stiles did the same to Derek’s name._

_And then Derek said, “There. It’s ours. Always will be.”_

_Stiles smiled. He could live with that._

_\--_

He came back to himself when he heard a loud crash from the other room, and Derek shouting out to them, “Erica, did you break another coffee table?”

“…No?” she called back, and Derek let out a frustrated sigh, digging his fingers into his dough in the process and Stiles quickly admonished him.

“Hey, hey! Pay attention, sour wolf! Don’t ruin the dough!”

He pulled his fingers out and rerolled the dough flat and then recut it, and Stiles was pleased to see that he did all of it correctly, even though he’d only done it once before, and suddenly had an image of a young Derek helping his mom in the kitchen baking cookies. He thought about asking him, even opened his mouth to do so, but then thought better of it and went back to working on the faworkis. He knew better than to ruin a moment, and so he’d ask some other time.

By the time they’d finished rolling all of the pastries and Stiles had brushed melted butter over every single one of them, they could hear a movie playing in the other room, the Avengers theme music coming through the wall.

Derek rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “How many times are they going to watch that movie?” and Stiles quickly answered, “Oh, c’mon, Der, you know it’s one of the best movies out there. Oh, wait, I forgot,” he added sarcastically, “You’re a luddite who prefers to read than watch movies.”

Derek gave him a less than intimidating glare and said, “Just because I prefer books, that doesn’t make me anti-technology, Stiles.”

He gave Derek an arched look.

“But it does make you a nerd.”

“Says the guy who has Lord of the Rings figurines on his desk.”

Stiles scoffed.

“That is _entirely_ a different thing, man,” he said, leaning on the counter and rolling his head on his shoulders, and Derek gave him a look that he couldn’t quite identify, almost fond…but it couldn’t be. Derek wasn’t fond of him, he was irritated by him, and that’s how it had always been. “Everyone _knows_ that Lord of the Rings is cool, they just don’t want to admit it.”

Derek just gave him another look with his eyebrows and Stiles gave him a look right back, waggling his eyebrows as comically as possible.

Derek conceded the silent argument.

Stiles grinned.

\--

It was a week until Christmas, and Stiles was _scrambling._ He’d gotten everyone’s presents but he was still struggling, trying to figure out what the hell to get Derek, which is why he was currently tucked between Lydia and Allison on the couch at Derek’s house, his feet in Lydia’s lap and his head in Allison’s lap, where she was playing with his hair. Lydia was using his legs to rest her notebook on. And Stiles…well, he was complaining for everything that he was worth.

“I don’t know what the hell to do, guys. He is impossible to buy for,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “He has plenty of money, a new house, and all of you guys here, too.”

Lydia ignored him, making some more notes on something that she was working on for some thinktank that she was working with over the internet, but Allison paused in running her fingers through his hair and said, “Yeah, he’s kinda hard to buy for. But Scott and I decided to get him a gift card for a bookstore he really likes in town.”

Luckily, Derek was out for the day.

Unluckily, he was stuck with Allison and Lydia, who were the only two people at the house who knew the least about their enigmatic pack leader.

Thanksgiving had been a success, luckily, and there weren’t any leftovers, though all of the faworkis had been eaten that same day. Stiles had been a bit irritated by that, but the pack had reassured him that it was only because they were so good, so he’d promised to also make them for Christmas and had already enlisted Derek’s help once more, as he’d decided that he was going to have to triple that recipe.

He had been comfortable over the holiday and a few days after it, but over the past couple of weeks, things had gotten odd between him and Derek and he didn’t know why.

Correction: he _did_ know why, but he just didn’t like to admit it.

It was stupid feeling awkward and off-kilter all just because Derek was suddenly being _nice_ to him.

He mentioned it aloud, saying, “Have you noticed that he’s been really nice to me, lately? Like, he didn’t take my head off when I threatened to put mistletoe up around the house,” he said gesturing towards the ceiling with one hand. “You would think that would garner at least _some_ sort of reaction, right?”

Allison kept on running her fingers through his hair, and she said, “Yeah, well, maybe it’s the holidays? We’ve never all been together for Christmas before, so maybe he’s just…you know, getting into the Christmas spirit.”

Stiles noticed Lydia’s eyebrow arch and the corner of her mouth twitch and he looked up at Allison just in time to see her also trying to hide a smile, and his mind flashed back to the pack on the couch a few days before Thanksgiving, as well as to the day they had come back from their swim. It was the same look.

Okay, something was _definitely_ going on.

Sitting up, ignoring Lydia’s cry of protest as he dragged his feet from her legs, he said, “Okay, you two are conspiring about something, and I wanna know what it is. I mean, what’s going on here with the smiles and the looks and the, you know, general weirdness?” he asked, feeling his heartrate skyrocket. “Because if there is something going on here about Derek, then I deserve to know!”

They exchanged a look and Stiles recognized the glare that Lydia sent in Allison’s direction and suddenly had the insight that he wouldn’t be getting any answers from them. He knew what Lydia’s resolve was like when it came down to keeping secrets, so he knew that he would get nothing out of her, and he was well aware of the fact that Allison was painfully loyal when it came to keeping secrets for the greater good, so he had the vague impression that he wouldn’t be able to get her to talk as well.

Feeling frustrated, his flung his arms up as he got up from the couch and said as he stalked angrily to the front door, “Fine! Be that way! Don’t help!” and nearly slammed the door behind him, but then thought better of it and instead carefully closed it.

He was still annoyed as he leaned back against the door, but he was also just confused. He didn’t know what to do with a nice Derek Hale, or what to buy for him.

Just two days before, they had all been at the house and Boyd had suggested that they all go for a run in the preserve…but then Derek had told them to go on ahead and then had offered to stay behind with Stiles.

The teen had noticed that Derek had made an excuse that he had to get some work done, and the pack had all just seemed to accept it, but Stiles knew better than they did and could tell, even without any superhuman abilities, that the alpha had been lying. He had then spent the entire afternoon with Stiles not really doing anything at all.

Stiles had messed around on his phone for most of the time while Derek had sat on the couch with a book, reading.

Huh. Maybe something to do with books wasn’t a bad idea, he mused, thinking of the fact that Allison had mentioned that she and Scott had given him a gift card for a bookstore, and the fact that all that Derek seemed to do in his free time was read. But it couldn’t be as generic as that, he knew that much. If he was going to get the now less-than-surly alpha a decent Christmas present, then it would have to be something that meant something to him. Something that said that he cared for him and that he was paying attention to him.

Stiles knew all too well what it was like to receive presents that were generic because the person giving them didn’t know you as well as they felt they should.

Unfortunately, that had been the habit for quite a few years after his mom had died when he’d gotten a slew of generic Christmas gifts from his dad, ranging from a painting kit to a football.

He didn’t take any of it personally, because he knew that his dad had been hurting during that time, but he also knew that his dad had been trying a lot harder in the past few years and he knew how it felt to get a gift that was so unexpected and perfect. Just last year, his dad had gifted him a leather jacket with rune protection in it that he’d found from a verified wicca online. Stiles knew that it must have set his dad back a pretty penny, and it was now something that he wore almost constantly.

He needed to do something like that for Derek.

Lifting his head from where he’d been leaning it back against the front door that he and Derek had installed, he let out a long sigh and looked out towards the preserve.

He was going to get him something special.


	3. Erica Is Grounded and It Sucks for Everyone

“Dude, I _totally_ took you down!” Liam yelled at Jackson as they all made their way from the back yard into the house, while Stiles rolled his eyes. The wrestling had gotten heated and Jackson had been distracted because of Lydia’s low-cut top…and so Liam had managed to take him down at that perfect moment.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” drawled Jackson, cuffing the younger pack member on the back of his head, but Stiles saw a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth and he knew that Jackson was pleased with the kid’s progress.

Erica, who trailed behind them, groaned and pouted like an irreverent ten-year-old.

“Oh, god, I don’t care who took who down, I’m just pissed that Derek has banned me from training until I go and help him pick out a new coffee table!”

Everyone started laughing at that, and Scott was laughing so hard he nearly dropped Allison, who was perched on his back, her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, while Isaac almost tripped over his own feet. Lydia was already back inside, along with Derek, and Stiles knew that Boyd was still sleeping up in the attic room. The man seemed to live for sleep, which Stiles completely understood, and seemed to be more nocturnal than the rest of them.

Unable to help himself, Stiles said, “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for destroying your third coffee table this year,” and she lowly growled in the back of her throat at him.

He brushed it off and as they all stepped inside, they heard Derek shout, “Showers! Everyone who was training. Now.”

He pulled back just in time to avoid the mass stampede as they all bolted up the stairs. Despite all of the improvements to the house, there were only four bathrooms in the entire house, but because no one was allowed to use Derek’s private bathroom, technically there were only three, and so it was obvious that they were all trying to get first dibs.

Stiles’ suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly heard Scott yell, “Erica, you cheated! And you didn’t even train, so what the hell?!”

He snorted and made his way to the living room, where he saw Derek sprawled over the couch, one hand behind his head, the other holding a book. He snuck a quick look at the cover and smiled to himself when he realized that it was “Call of the Wild” by Jack London. It was kind of adorable that he was reading _that_ book out of all the books that he owned.

“So, where’s Lydia?” he asked, settling himself down at the other end of the couch, noticing how Derek automatically shifted his feet so that he would have room to sit.

“In the other room on the computer. I think she’s doing some sort of online meeting,” he muttered, turning a page using just his thumb, eyes still focused on the book. “Something to do with statistics and number theory, I think. I don’t know,” he admitted, “I wasn’t really paying attention when she told me…”

Stiles just nodded and took advantage of Derek’s distraction and looked him over.

He was wearing a dark brown sweater that was about a size too big for him, a feat in and of itself, and his jeans seemed to be just as soft, worn out around the knees and the thighs, going white on the thighs with a small hole forming of the left knee, the frayed edges revealing skin underneath, and Stiles had the sudden urge to reach out and poke at it, but he withheld the impulse, and instead just swallowed and nodded, trying to remember why he had come to talk to Derek in the first place.

“So, I hear that you’re taking Erica to find a new coffee table?” he finally said, breaking the silence, using his elbow to gently jostle the man’s shin, and Derek nodded.

“Yep.”

Oh boy, an entire syllable.

He shoved Derek’s legs a bit harder, causing him to look up from his book, and then said, “Mind if I come with you guys? I don’t think I can take much more chaotic wolfie energy, today,” Stiles explained, giving him a look that he hoped looked begging enough. As much as he loved the pack, they could get to him rather badly sometimes.

Derek seemed pleased at his question and nodded and said, “Yeah, sure, not at all. Just, uh…let me finish these next couple chapters first?” He motioned with the book in his hand. “They’re gonna take a while getting clean, anyway,” he explained, tilting his chin toward the ceiling, “And it just so happens this is my favorite book.”

At that, Stiles arched his eyebrow and couldn’t help but say, “Favorite book? Are you serious? Could you _be_ any more of a cliché right now?”, to which Derek rolled his eyes and playfully kicked at him with his foot, hitting his thigh, and said, “Hey, shut up. My mom used to read it to me as a kid and I, you know…I kind of fell in love with it.” He went a bit quiet and Stiles suddenly felt like an ass for making fun of him, but then Derek reassured him with, “Don’t worry, I know I’m a walking cliché. By the way, did Liam really get the drop on Jackson?”

Stiles nodded and grinned.

“Yeah, sure did. Of course, it helped that mister douche was distracted by the stunning decolletage of his girlfriend who was on the back porch at the time,” he lilted, tilting his head slightly and shooting a smirk in Derek’s direction.

The alpha chuckled, the two of them shared an amused look, and then Derek went back to reading.

 _Derek was right_ , Stiles thought to himself a little while later, realizing that it _was_ taking the pack a long time to all get their showers. He stretched his neck and reached down and absently rubbed at Derek’s shins, which were currently draped over his thighs. It should have been awkward, but Stiles was used to the physical closeness of the rest of the pack, because they were always draping themselves over each other in completely platonic ways, even Jackson did it with him, and he thought nothing of it. Derek hadn’t done it up to this point, so far, but Stiles just chalked it up to the fact that Derek was finally relaxed for once and not thinking about it.

He adjusted himself on the couch and then closed his eyes, deciding that he might as well get a nap in while he could.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but he heard a snort and what sounded like muffled laughter come from the entryway that separated the living room from the front foyer, and he opened his eyes and saw Erica standing there, fully dressed, smirking as she obviously took a picture with her phone.

“Oh, this is _totally_ going into my blackmail folder,” she crowed, looking far too pleased with herself.

Confused, Stiles tried to figure out what she meant…and then realized that Derek had fallen asleep, his book across his chest, hand still tucked behind his head, his lower legs draped over Stiles’ thighs, and Stiles had been asleep as well, and he flushed, feeling the heat of embarrassment, but at the same time, he _desperately_ wanted a copy of her photo.

Instead of snapping at her, he patted Derek’s calf and said, “Wake up, big guy. Time to go buy some furniture.”

Stiles had fully expected Derek to startle awake, so was pleasantly surprised when the alpha slowly came to, blinking and turning his head and then reaching both arms above his head and stretching, his sweater riding up and revealing a dark trail of hair that lead in a perfect line under his jeans.

Stiles ripped his eyes away.

“Okay, time to go shopping,” Derek said as he swung his legs down from Stiles lap as if it was nothing. “Stiles, you still coming?”

He swallowed and nodded. Yep. He was definitely doing some version of that word.

\--

Shopping was hilariously awkward as they wandered through the furniture store looking like the three weirdest roommates ever trying to pick out a new coffee table.

Erica was wearing her usual leather mini skirt and jacket, along with her knee high boots, and was popping gum as she walked, acting for all the world like an irritated teenager-which she was-but Stiles could tell how disorienting it had to look when Derek was wearing sensible shoes, jeans, a t-shirt, and a cowled sweater with large buttons up the front, and Stiles was wearing his torn jeans, a shirt that was size too-small with a pink hippo on the front and a purple hoodie. Laundry day.

They walked through the store talking about what they wanted: Erica wanted something fun and modern, whereas Derek was trying to make sure that it matched the rest of the pieces in the house. Stiles’ only criteria was that it could withstand the roughhousing of werewolves in the living room.

“How about this one?” said Erica, bouncing on her toes and gesturing to a garish red and orange modern monstrosity, popping another bubble and arching an eyebrow, and at this point Stiles felt that she was picking out the worst pieces just to see Derek’s reactions to them.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest and growled, “Erica, at this point I think you’re just trying to piss me off.”

She grinned back at him, unrepentant, chewed her gum loudly, and then shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, stuck her tongue out at him, and said, “Yes, that is _exactly_ what I am doing, mister grumpy cat,” and Stiles couldn’t help but snort at that. Ever since they’d found that meme, Erica had delighted in teasing the older man with it. “I am _sorry_ that I destroyed the coffee table, but did you have to punish me by taking me _furniture_ shopping? I mean, I like shopping, but not _this_ kind!”

Stiles could see Derek was about to say something that he was going to regret, so quickly cut him off and said, “Erica, c’mon, give the guy a break! Besides,” he added, “You know that it was your fault, so you might as well try and make it a little bit easier on him…”

She looked about to argue, stamping one of her heeled boots against the floor like a five-year-old about to have a temper tantrum…but then she rolled her eyes.

“Ugh…fine. Fine. I’ll take this more seriously, promise.”

Stiles shot a look over at Derek, who seemed less tense than before and smiled when Derek said, “Thank you. Now, since we’re having trouble finding one, why don’t we just ask one of the employees to help us find what we’re looking for?” She opened her mouth to protest, and Derek cut her off with, “Please, Erica. I don’t want to be doing this any more than you do.”

Stiles looked between the two of them, unsure if he was needed to mediate again, but let out a sigh of relief when she nodded and relented.

They looked around and sighed in relief when an employee approached them, as if sensing their distress, and the young woman said, “You look like you could use some help. Hi, I’m Liz,” she said, reaching out and shaking each of their hands, “And I’ve seen you look at several pieces already,” she admitted, looking slightly embarrassed, tucking a strand of hair behind her air, “But I’m pretty sure I know what you’re looking for. Something that fits with a craftsman style, but also caters to a modern aesthetic. And sturdy.”

Liz started walking and they followed after her. She then turned a corner and gestured with a hand.

“Something like this?”

Stiles looked at it. Solid legs and a thick top, which meant that it should hold up to the pack’s shenanigans.

He glanced over at Derek and Erica…and was pleased to seem them both nodding, and then Derek said, “We’ll take it,” and the sound he let out afterwards had Stiles walking over to him and nudging him with his shoulder, saying, “That bad, huh?” and Derek muttered back at him, “If I have to spend five more minutes in here, I am going to strangle her,” and Stiles laughed and absently reached up and squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” he said, squeezing it a second time, not noticing the soft look Derek gave him as he slid his hand from his shoulder and turned back to Erica.

By the time they had paid for it, gotten it into the back of the truck that he’d borrowed from Peter, and gotten it home, Erica was antsy once more, looking as though she was about to explode from the car. As soon as the car slid to a stop outside the front door, she had bolted out of the back seat, and Derek yelled after her, “You break one more piece of furniture you forfeit Stiles’ faworkis for Christmas dinner!” and Stiles laughed when he saw her nearly trip over the top step as she tried to suddenly drop her speed.

Stiles then said, “I find it rather amusing that you threatened her with taking away _my_ dessert,” to which Derek tilted his head and said, “Uh, I’m pretty sure that I made them, too.”

“Then why’d you call them mine?”

At that, he could have sworn that he saw a faint pink tinge to the man’s cheeks but was quickly distracted by Derek asking for his help in taking the coffee table out of the back of the borrowed truck. Derek held the brunt of the weight, angling down and back, and though Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, he was no slouch and easily helped him get it out of the back…but just as they maneuvered it to put it down, it slipped off the edge--

\--and then it was falling down on top of him.

Just as it was about to hit him dead-on, Derek was there with his superhuman speed and stopped it from landing with it’s full weight with just one hand, the other hand on Stiles’ shoulder, moving him out of the way just in time. For a moment, he was shocked…and then Stiles giggled.

“Oh my god,” he said, falling even further into his laughter, “You just pulled a Twilight on me!”

Derek gave him a confused look, his brow furrowed in a way that was practically adorable, and Stiles explained, “You did what Edward does to save Bella in the very first book and movie, you know, with the car in the parking lot?”

…and then he kept on giggling, laying down on his back while Derek rolled his eyes and got the rest of the coffee table off the truck by himself.

Eventually, Stiles calmed down and said as he stood and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, “My god, I can’t _wait_ to tell the pack about this,” and Derek glared.

“Don’t you dare,” the alpha managed to get out in a tight voice, but it didn’t hold the usual biting tone, so Stiles knew that he could probably get away with telling the pack if he _really_ wanted to, but he knew that he wouldn’t embarrass him that way.

Instead, he walked over and helped Derek take the table in through the front door, and as they put into place in front of the television, Liam and Isaac came in and immediately collapsed on the couch and put their feet up on it as they grabbed their gaming controllers and turned on the tv, while both Derek and Stiles gave them identical looks of annoyance.

And then they heard Lydia’s voice from the doorway, “My god, it’s like you’ve turned into our parents,” and Stiles looked up just in time to see her smirk and walk out of the room towards the kitchen.

Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up.

He shared a quick look with Derek, who gave him a faint smile in return, and felt a warm feeling in his chest. He didn’t really mind the comparison, to be honest.

\--

It was the eve of Christmas Eve and Stiles was pleased with all of the presents that he’d managed to get under the tree that Jackson, Scott, and Boyd had hauled into the house. Okay, so it had been mostly Boyd, but he felt it was only fair to include the other two, as well, considering how much they had been pouting at not being asked to participate in any of the Christmas preparations. Derek had only reluctantly let them go and pick out and cut down the tree with Boyd because Stiles had pointed it out to him that they felt left out.

“Because they cause disaster, Stiles,” Derek had argued with him. “I’ve never met two people who attract more problems than they do!”

Stiles had immediately countered with, “Then let’s use that destructive tendency to help get us a good tree!”

Derek had conceded, and now Stiles was pleased to see that Liam had taken the initiative to decorate the tree, wrangling in Allison and Erica, as well as Isaac, to help him. Erica was sitting on the floor with Allison, who was stringing popcorn…while Erica kept on eating the pieces.

“Stop it!” Allison reprimanded, batting at the blonde’s hand, giving her a hard look. “I’m working really hard at this! Do you think that you could _not_ eat the decorations?”

Erica playfully nudged her back, but stopped momentarily, though still sneaking a bite or two, while Isaac and Liam were busy placing ornaments on the tree. Stiles lounged on the couch, tired after dealing with the last of the decorations on the front porch. He watched them with a fond look and cast a casual glance at the ornaments they were using. He’d never seen them before, but it was obvious that they weren’t new.

Curious, he asked, “Hey, where’d you get those?”

“We found them down in the storage section of the basement, in the section that wasn’t burned,” Liam answered. “I think they used to be the Hale’s family ornaments. We thought it would be nice for Derek,” he added with a slightly unsure smile, and Stiles gave him a nod and said, “That’s a nice thought.”

As if he’d just given them permission, the two of them started putting on the ornaments more quickly and Erica had finally stopped eating the popcorn. Boyd was upstairs napping again, Scott and Jackson were out in the back, training, Lydia was upstairs on some sort of conference call with her thinktank, again, and Derek was back in the living room, once more, reading. As he thought of Derek, he smiled to himself thinking about the gift he’d gotten for him that he’d hidden under the tree. It had been a bit tricky to find and it had only showed up the day before. He’d managed to hide it from everyone and wrapped it up in festive green and gold wrapping paper and couldn’t wait to see the alpha unwrap it.

Isaac had put on some sort of Christmas playlist from the Spotify app on his phone and the faint music was enough to eventually lull him into a light doze, where he wasn’t really asleep, but he wasn’t awake, either, and it felt surprisingly pleasant and relaxed.

However, just as he started to drift from his light doze into an actual sleep, Derek’s voice rang out.

“Going out for a bit, guys. Don’t call me for anything!” he shouted, so that the entire house could hear him, as well as Scott and Jackson out back, and then the front door slammed behind him.

Stiles sat up and looked at the door, trying to figure out what was going on. Derek had been doing that off and on for the past few weeks, and he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. The alpha had been leaving the house at around four in the afternoon between two to three times a week, but never on the same days, and he hadn’t told anyone about what he was doing.

Stiles was pretty sure that no one had asked him because they knew that he would just glare at them and not give them an answer.

No one else seemed bothered by it, so he ignored it for the time being and instead decided that he would start on some of the food for Christmas dinner, as well as the faworkis for dessert. This time, he’d also gotten everything he needed for making szarlotka, piernik, and makowiec. He’d shown the recipes to Derek and then the girls had come into the room, seen the pictures, and _insisted_ that Stiles make all of them for Christmas. Normally he would have complained, but he was actually enjoying baking for people that would appreciate it.

Within a few hours, the entire house was smelling like almonds, honey, and oranges as he had the first batch of makowiec in the top oven. Members of the pack had kept on trying to come in and steal bits and pieces of the dough as he was working, and he’d had to chase them all off with the threat of slipping mistletoe into their food.

When Derek came home, however, he sidled up right next to Stiles in the kitchen and practically put his head on Stiles’ shoulder as he stirred a batch of piernik in a bowl and said, “It all smells really good. I could smell it as soon as I turned off the main road,” and Stiles withheld a shiver at the breath that brushed across his jaw and cheek.

“You, uh…wanna try a bite?” he asked, licking his lips, and Derek nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

Stiles lifted his hand, holding the spoon up high enough for Derek to grab, but was taken aback when he just leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the end of the spoon, and seemed to take _entirely_ far too long before letting go of it with a slight pop. He then chewed a moment, swallowed, and said, “That tastes just as good as it smells. What is it…ginger?”

Stiles nodded, swallowing around his suddenly dry throat, and the alpha nodded and then lightly tapped his shoulder with his hand.

“Hope you’re making enough.”

At that, Stiles came out of his odd trance and scoffed and said, “But of _course_ , sourwolf. I haven’t baked this much in years, and I’m actually really liking the excuse to make as much as I want, knowing that it won’t go to waste. It’s nice keeping up an old family tradition,” he remarked, and saw Derek’s eyes go slightly dark at his words.

The older man then nodded a second time and let out an odd sigh as he said, “Yeah. Tradition,” and then walked out of the kitchen, into the living room.

And then Stiles heard him gasp.

Quickly, he grabbed a hand towel and headed for the living room, wiping off his hands as he walked through the door, and then saw why Derek had reacted the way that he had: the tree was fully decorated with popcorn, lights, and ornaments on almost every branch, along with a beautifully hand-made paper mâché star perched firmly on top of it, as well as a few more presents under its branches.

“Oh, yeah, they pulled out some decorations from the basement,” Stiles said, walking up until he was shoulder to shoulder with the taciturn alpha. “Erica kept on eating the popcorn, so it took them a little bit longer than expected, but I think it came out pretty good, don’t you?” he said, gently nudging him in the side with his elbow, wondering why Derek was still so quiet, but when he turned his head to look at him, he saw his eye’s were glistening, like he was holding back tears.

“Der? Are you okay?” he quickly asked, throwing the towel over his shoulder, and reaching out to him.

Derek shook his head, one tear escaping, which he quickly reached up to wipe away with his thumb, and said, “Sorry, I just…I haven’t seen those ornaments since…since the last Christmas before the fire. I didn’t know that so many of them had survived. I just…I assumed they hadn’t.”

“Liam said they found them in a part of the basement that had been untouched,” he explained, and Derek nodded.

“I, uh…I guess that makes sense,” he managed to get out, his voice still sounding tight. “I just…I haven’t really celebrated Christmas for the past few years. Not since, you know…”

His voice drifted and Stiles nodded, knowing that he was referring to the fire. The two of them stood there for a long while, enjoying the sight, and Stiles knew that Derek was probably going through a gamut of emotions. He had a lot of memories, most of them bad, that surrounded the holiday, though Stiles hoped that this year would be the year of changing his mind about how he felt about it. Especially with the gift that he had picked out for him, Stiles thought to himself.

He snuck a glance at the alpha’s profile.

He wasn’t crying anymore, and his serious expression had softened into something more thoughtful and reflective. Stiles wondered what he was thinking about and thought about asking but decided against it and simply stood there with him.

The silence, along with the smell of pastries floating through the house, made it a moment that Stiles knew he would remember.


	4. What It Looks Like When You Don't Know How to Give Presents

The next day, Christmas Eve, the entire pack was outside making a mess of themselves.

It had unexpectedly snowed last night, dropping a solid eight inches of powder, and so the pack was taking full advantage of it…and it was _hilarious_. Stiles was glad that he had his phone out because he was getting golden footage of them going after each other in some of the most unexpected ways.

Stiles laughed as Allison nailed Boyd in the face with a snowball and Lydia managed to surprise Scott and dump a handful of snow down the back of his sweater.

Derek was up on the porch with him, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands, watching the spectacle with an arched eyebrow and giving Stiles an amused side-eye as he continued to take video, as well as the occasional picture.

“Dude! What the hell was that?” barked out Jackson as Isaac nailed him in the neck with a snowball.

“It’s called payback for stealing my game last night!” he barked back at him, but then Isaac was tackled from behind by Erica, who seemed to be trying to tackle everyone, and had already gotten to Liam, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and now Isaac. She only had Jackson and Boyd to go, but Stiles had the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to get the drop on her boyfriend, who seemed to be rolling his eyes each time she got the drop on someone new, while looking fondly at her at the same time.

Scott kept on yelling up at Stiles.

“Seriously, man! Put down the phone and get down here!” he yelled for probably the fourth time, but Stiles rolled his eyes and shouted back at him, “Dude, no! One, I don’t have my winter gear with me, and two, unlike the rest of you, excluding Allison and Lydia, of course, you all have wolfie powers and I’m _not_ planning on getting my ass handed to me!”

Scott groaned, but then was suddenly tackled for the second time by Erica who had used the distraction of the two of them yelling to sneak up on him again and faceplant him in the snow, sprawled over his back, and she howled out her victory.

Stiles then noticed that all the wolves were wearing were long pants and t-shirts, versus the two girls who were bundled up in boots, leggings, and thick winter coats, hats, and gloves.

The disparity was rather amusing, but Stiles also found it interesting as he saw the snow melting on their arms and faces almost immediately. He tended to forget just how warm the rest of the wolves ran, and that had him glancing back over at Derek, who was lounging on the porch swing in his jeans, thick slippers, and, once more, his brown sweater. He wondered how cold the man really was, and if the sweater was really necessary for him.

“Hey, there, Der…you actually cold?” he asked, moving over to sit next to him, and Derek moved over slightly, giving him more room.

The alpha shrugged.

“Not really, but I’m not like the rest of them. I was born a wolf so I actually handle the winters better than they will. Trust me when I say that they’ll be freezing their asses off in about ten minutes, whereas I’m going to be at a perfectly maintained temperature,” he said with an amused tilt of his brow. “The rest of the winter you’re going to see them going from one extreme to the next. It’s tricky learning how to maintain a proper body heat with our accelerated metabolisms.”

Stiles nodded and couldn’t help but scoot closer, feeling the faint heat coming off of him, unable to keep himself from gravitating towards it.

Derek seemed to notice, because he adjusted his position so that his thigh was pressed firmly up against Stiles’ thigh, and Stiles unabashedly leaned into it…and then on impulse, he laid his head down on the alpha’s shoulder. He felt Derek tense for a moment, but then he completely relaxed.

“So…you’re snuggling me for the body heat?” Derek said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate and Stiles nodded.

“Yep. I’m a poor, helpless, cold human who is very cold but also very stubborn. I don’t want to go back inside to get a jacket,” he explained, “And since you’re a walking furnace, I might as well take advantage.”

Derek nodded, took another sip of his drink, swallowed, and then said, sounding amused, “This wouldn’t also have anything to do with using me as a shield to keep Erica from dragging you off the porch and tackling you in the snow would it?”

Stiles shook his head, flat out denying it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sourwolf.”

Derek just shook his head.

Luckily, he was right, and the rest of the pack was clambering up the stairs only ten minutes later, all of them shivering except for Boyd, and Lydia and Allison were the only ones out in the snow, and they had found an unmarred patch of snow and were making snow angels.

As the rest of them thundered into the house, Derek shouted, “Towels are just inside the door! Use them or I’ll have you mopping up your own mess!” and Stiles snorted when heard a chorus of groans and then several thuds as they jostled to get to the towels on the rack next to the front door.

Stiles moved his head from Derek’s shoulder and gave him a look and said, “My god, you are _such_ a dad,” to which Derek rolled his eyes.

“I’m really not,” he said wearily, rolling his head on his neck, and Stiles shook his head.

“Nope. You’re really not convincing me. In fact,” he poked his arm, “You just did a classic dad move. You threatened them with more chores if they didn’t do what you asked them to. Only dads do that, man, trust me. My dad tried to pull that trick on me so many times. Didn’t really work in my case,” he begrudgingly admitted, “But that’s my fault, not his.”

Derek turned to look at him, their eyes locking…and then he asked him in a surprisingly soft voice, “Is…is being like a dad a bad thing?”

Stiles quickly reassured him.

“Dude, no! Not a bad thing at all, man.” He reached back over and patted him on the thigh. “If anything, it just proves to me that you’re a good alpha and know how to take care of your pack. Besides,” he added with a smug grin, “They listen to you, don’t they? And it’s not because of the threats, Der, it’s because they _want_ to. They all look up to you, Derek. All of them. Even Jackson.”

At that, Derek chuckled and stretched his arms out in front of him, above his head, and then dropped them back down to his sides, his fingers curling around the edge of the porch swing and then levelled his eyes with Stiles’. He was disoriented for a moment, but then the man smiled.

“You know, this house wouldn’t have been finished without your help,” he said, sounding so sincere it threw Stiles off balance. “Thank you.”

Stiles nodded and swallowed.

“Yeah, no problem man. I enjoyed it, you know? You deserve to have a home again,” he hesitantly added, unsure if those were the right words, but they seemed to be, because Derek gave him another one of those smiles and nodded and then stood up and said, “C’mon, I know you still have to finish the desserts for tomorrow night. I’ll help.”

And they went back inside, Stiles certain that at one point he felt Derek’s fingers brush against his lower back…

\--

Christmas morning was _chaos._

Luckily, Derek had mandated that every single one of them had to wait for the entire pack to be there before they could start handing out presents. Stiles was still worn out from Christmas Eve, however, and had purposely stayed in bed until he absolutely _had_ to get out of it and go downstairs. He’d stolen Isaac and Liam’s room, specifically Liam’s bed for the night, and Liam had spent the night in Lydia and Jackson’s room, while Isaac had been in Scott and Allison’s room.

When he finally dragged himself downstairs, he was pleased to see that he wasn’t the last one down. It looked like Boyd and Erica were still up in their room, which meant that he could join everyone else in opening their stockings. Speaking of stockings, the contents were strewn all over the rug and wooden floor, each one of them already eating pieces of chocolate, while Allison and Lydia were trading body lotions and sniffing each other’s wrists.

Stiles grabbed his knitted orange stocking and was surprised at the weight of it. He decided to join Derek on the couch, who looked like he was already worn out, and dig through it there.

Not thinking about it, he sat right next to the alpha, whose blue stocking laid between his thighs, ignoring the fact that there was still plenty of empty space where he could have chosen to sit.

He dug his fingers into the sock and the first thing he pulled out was a dark chocolate orange. Hell _yes._ He grinned like an idiot, wondering who had given it to him, and then pulled everything else out. There was an obscene amount of dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and some skittles and starbursts, as well. But there was something shoved into the toe. Something heavy.

He finally managed to get it out…and stared at it, trying to figure out what it could be. It was wrapped in plain, brown paper, with twine tied around it in a quaint little bow.

As he stared at it, he noticed Derek shifting next to him, and his eyes giving him a sideways glance.

Feeling like a little kid, Stiles shook it.

He shook it a couple more times, and then Derek rolled his eyes and said, “Okay, now you’re just making fun of it. C’mon, open it up. You’re allowed to, it was in your stocking,” he reasoned, and Stiles suddenly knew that whatever it was, it was definitely from the alpha, so he reluctantly tugged on the string and then carefully opened up the sides.

The rest of the pack was ignoring them, far too engrossed in their candy.

Stiles pulled off the paper and found a small box inside that looked suspiciously like a jewelry box. Okay, what the hell had Derek gotten him and why had he put it in his stocking and _why_ was it in a jewelry box? Feeling a little bit weirded out, but also having sudden, inexplicable butterflies in his stomach, he flicked open the lock on the small box…and was slightly confused when he saw a simple key resting in the center of the box on a military chain. He lifted it from the box, took a long careful look at it, and then looked over at Derek.

“Uh…am I supposed to know what this is?” he asked, and Derek licked his lips.

He then answered, “It’s a key.”

“I see that, I’m not an _idiot_ , Der. But what’s it to?” He waved it in front of his face. “Is it the key to life, the universe, and everything? Because that would be cool, you know,” and Derek rolled his eyes and drawled, “Just…look at what it says, you idiot.”

Confused, Stiles brought it up to his face for closer inspection and saw faint writing on one side of it that simply read _‘Our Room’._ And he was even more confused.

He looked back up at Derek and gave him another befuddled look, but just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, Erica and Boyd finally walked in, Erica looking pissed that she was awake, running a hand over her face while Boyd looked like he was holding her by the waist just to make sure that she didn’t fall over, and everyone cheered, Scott yelling, “You made it!”

Liam was the first to say, “Thank god, now we can open presents,” and he lunged for the brightly wrapped packages under the tree and then it was chaos all over again as the presents were doled out.

Stiles was happy with what he got over all: a sweater from Lydia and Jackson, a new pair of slippers from Allison and Scott, a new PS4 game from Isaac, an online gift card from Boyd and Erica to his favorite, uh… _adult_ toy store (thank you, Erica), and a rune pendant on a leather cord from Liam. Though nothing from Derek. He watched as they all opened their presents and was pleased when everyone seemed to have liked what he had gotten them…but he snuck a look over at Derek, who was still next to him on the couch, even though everyone else was on the floor except for the two of them, and noticed Derek was taking a lot longer with his gifts than anyone else because he was, like Stiles, watching everyone else.

It was almost painfully slow to watch when Derek finally opened each of his presents, as if he’d been waiting for everyone to be distracted by their own presents so they wouldn’t make a big deal out of his. Stiles was slightly disappointed in what most of the pack had given their leader.

He saw a pair of thick socks, the gift card that Allison had mentioned, a couple more gift cards, and a deep green scarf that was much nicer than anything else, and Stiles had a hunch that the scarf was from Lydia.

He noticed that Derek had saved his gift for last and he nervously licked his lips, biting at his lower one, unsure of how he would react to it.

Derek took just as much time unwrapping Stiles’ gift as he had the others…but Stiles smiled when he saw the slight sharp intake of breath as he saw the first glimpse of the title. And then he was taken off guard when Derek suddenly ripped the rest of the wrapping off and stared at it with wide eyes.

“This…this is…” He flipped the leather-bound book open to the first page. “A first edition?” he gasped out. “How…how the hell did you…?”

He left his question unfinished, moving his eyes up to lock onto Stiles’, mouth gaping, as if trying to find the right words, and so Stiles put him out of his misery and said, “I, uh, I used my prodigious researching skills to scour the internet and found a warlock willing to trade. He had an extensive book collection, I had some information from our bestiary he needed, so we, uh…did a trade. You, uh, you like it?” he asked, suddenly feeling shy, reaching up and running a hand through the back of his hair.

Derek nodded, obviously still unable to speak.

Lydia, of course, heard the words ‘first-edition’, and piped up, “First-edition of what? Oooh, looks expensive,” she leered, rising to her knees and leaning over to see the book in Derek’s hands.

Finally, Derek said, “It’s a first-edition, leather bound copy of Jack London’s ‘Call of the Wild’…it’s next to impossible to find anywhere. I know because I’ve looked,” he finished softly, tracing his fingers almost reverently over the embossed cover and Stiles felt a surge of confidence at seeing how happy Derek was with the gift he’d picked out for him.

“I’m just glad that you like it,” he said, and Derek looked back up at him and Stiles was taken aback by the sheer amount of emotion in his usually unreadable eyes.

Derek then nodded.

“I love it, Stiles. It’s perfect.”

He reached out with his free hand and wrapped it around the back of Stiles’ neck, like he would with one of the members of the pack, and the heat from his hand went straight through him, and Stiles felt like he had to catch his breath when Derek lightly squeezed, his thumb curling around to graze along Stiles’ jaw.

“Thank you, Stiles,” he breathed out, and he nodded back at him and said, “You’re welcome, Der.”

At that moment, all that he could feel was the two of them…but then the stillness was broken with Isaac groaning from his position on the floor next to the tree, saying, “God, please tell me that we already have breakfast food, because I am freaking _starving_ ,” and at that, simultaneously Derek dropped his hand and Allison reached down and patted Isaac’s shoulder and said, “Stiles made szarlotka, and we also have some pre-made cinnamon rolls,” and with that the entire pack seemed to move as one towards the kitchen, leaving Stiles and Derek behind.

Lydia, Allison, and Erica all threw him similar looks over their shoulders before disappearing into the kitchen, however, and Stiles wondered what that was all about. He ignored it, however, and instead turned back to Derek, who had gone back to admiring the book, gently thumbing through the pages and looking at the hand-colored illustrations.

“So, uh…care to explain the key thing, now?” Stiles hesitantly asked, and Derek looked up at him and swallowed.

“Uh, I thought it was kind of obvious,” he answered, looking confused himself.

Stiles shook his head and pulled the key back out of the box and said, “Not really. It just says ‘our room’ on the back of it and I don’t really know what that means. Did you have an extra room put onto the house for me and dad or something? Because I’m at a loss here…”

Derek shook his head.

“No, it’s…it’s a key to our room, Stiles. I’m finally making it official. I mean, after everything that’s happened, it seems only fair,” he said, acting as if he was explaining everything, while Stiles was still completely in the dark to what he was talking about.

Stiles was now the one shaking his head as he said, “Derek, I _still_ don’t know what you’re talking about! Believe me, if I did, I wouldn’t be asking you all these questions! What the hell do you mean by “our” room? Why are you using phrases like ‘after everything’s that’s happened’, Der? I, god, I wish I knew what you were talking about, but I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me, because I honestly have _no clue_ what you’re talking about!”

Derek slowly stood, his eyes wide, book in one hand, and then he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Finally, he said, “When we carved our names into the door. This house. It’s ours. It has been since we finished it, Stiles. I was waiting until I finished the arrangements to the room before I asked you to move in. I thought that because of how I’ve been around you the past few months…I thought you knew that…that…”

He didn’t finish the sentence and to Stiles it looked like he was trying to catch his breath, almost on the verge of an anxiety attack. He didn’t like being in the dark, but he disliked being the person who made Derek so upset, so he tried to put it all together. Okay, they’d finished the house together, marked their names in the door, Derek had been separating himself from the pack, had been spending more time with Stiles, had been treating him like an equal, he’d been letting Stiles lean against him, had been spending time with him in the kitchen and learning about stuff that Stiles liked to do, he’d been…oh.

Oh.

_Oh._

Stiles suddenly felt like he couldn’t catch his _own_ breath, and slowly stood, key still in hand, took a step closer to Derek and said, “Wait, are you telling me that ever since we finished the house together, you’ve been…courting me or something?”

Derek nodded and breathed out, “I thought you knew. I mean, you helped me take down the old door, the one that had my mom and dad’s names carved into the side, and so I thought, I thought that you knew exactly what it meant when we…when we did it, too. I don’t want anyone else by my side but you, Stiles. I never have.” He reached out and cupped Stiles’ face, drawing him one step closer to him. “I finished my room so that it would be _our_ room,” he explained, his other hand going to Stiles’ hand that still held the key. “This is for you. It’s not my room, it’s _our_ room, it was always meant to be our room…”

He thought he was about to faint and swayed into Derek’s touch and that caused him to suddenly step right into him, their bodies barely an inch apart, Derek’s arms supporting him as best he could, and Stiles dropped his forehead to Derek’s shoulder and muttered into his clavicle, “I fell in love with an idiot,” to which Derek snorted and patted him gently on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, so did I, apparently.”

And at that, Stiles lifted his head from the alpha’s shoulder and caught his eyes with his own.

They stared at each other for a long time. Derek’s fingers played with the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck and Stiles hand now rested on the older man’s side. He didn’t know how long they stood there, but he didn’t want to move because it felt like a moment that he didn’t want to leave.

Unsure of what to say, he decided to say nothing.

And then Derek tilted his chin up with a single finger and suddenly their lips were touching, and Stiles was wondering why the _hell_ they hadn’t ever done it before, because it was goddamn _perfect._ He moaned into the kiss, moving his hand so that it wrapped around the back of Derek’s neck and slid his fingers up into the alpha’s hair, letting out a low groan when he suddenly bit down onto Stiles’ lower lip. Ah, that was _good._ More than good.

He sunk into it for a while longer, both of them teasing the other, their tongues briefly flicking out to taste the other’s lips, as if not quite sure if they were ready to take it any further, but then Derek slid his hands down to Stiles’ waist and tugged him closer and, _wow._ Yeah. There was _definitely_ something more there.

Stiles’ hips stuttered in his grasp and he pulled back to gasp for air and said, “Okay, so, uh, yeah… _that_ happened,” and Derek let out a gasping chuckle and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth and said, “So, breakfast first and then spend the day up in our room? Or room first and then food?”

“Food first,” he answered without hesitation.

Derek arched an eyebrow at him and Stiles quickly explained, “If we don’t eat now, we’ll starve, because trust me when I say that once I get you into bed, I am _not_ going to be letting you out,” and Derek laughed.

“Fair enough. Let’s go get some food.”

“If there’s anything left,” Stiles muttered under his breath, and Erica yelled back at them, having heard the two of them with her werewolf hearing, “Hey! I heard that! And we left plenty for you two love birds!”

Stiles felt his cheeks burning as they walked into the kitchen, where the rest of the pack was either around the table, the island, or were sitting on various surfaces, each one of them grinning like idiots at seeing the two of them walk hand in hand into the room.

Jackson looked down at their hands and rolled his eyes and drawled, “Oh, god, you two aren’t going to be the worst PDA couple ever, are you?” Lydia jabbed him in the side, and he grunted and corrected himself, saying in the least enthusiastic tone Stiles had ever heard, “I mean congratulations. Took you two long enough to figure it all out. God, if I had to keep pretending that I couldn’t smell the pheromones--”

“Tell me about it!” interrupted Liam, still chewing on his bite of szarlotka. He then swallowed and added, “Derek’s room is next to ours, by the way, and if you two are going to get up to stuff, then please, _please,_ get the room soundproofed,” he begged, and Stiles saw the tips of Derek’s ears go red and blushed himself when Derek replied, “Uh, I, uh…I already did that.”

Stiles suddenly couldn’t look a single member of the pack in the eye, but he eventually looked back up and saw that Allison had broken out into giggles and she was batting at Scott with one hand, who was sitting next to her and shaking from laughter in his chair, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed by his reaction, though he did find the humor in the situation, despite the sheer awkwardness of it and the fact that everyone was staring at them.

Erica shot Stiles a lascivious smile and said, “Well, looks like _some_ one’s definitely getting lucky tonight!” even as Boyd shook his head and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist, letting out a long-suffering sigh as she then asked, “So, Stiles, I’m guessing you’re a catcher?”

Isaac scrunched up his face at that and said, “Oh, god, Erica, stop! Would you _please_ stop?!”

Lydia finally spoke up from where she was leaning against her boyfriend’s shoulder and gave them both a soft smile and said, “If everyone could stop acting like ten-year-olds, I’d like to say that I am _very_ happy for the two of you. Like Jackson said, it took you long enough.”

Finally, Stiles spoke up.

“Okay, everyone’s acting they’ve known about this for forever, so I need to clear something up: if you knew that Derek already liked me, raise your hand!” His tone was more irritated then he meant it to be, but it seemed to draw amusement from the rest of the pack, because they all exchanged looks…and then all their hands went up, and Stiles let go of Derek’s fingers to bury his face into his hands and then said, his voice slightly muffled, “How long? I mean, how long has it been?”

Surprisingly enough, Scott answered first.

“Oh, dude, since junior year, at least,” and Stiles dropped his hands and gaped. He looked at his friend for a long moment, and then looked back over at Derek who looked even more flustered than Stiles was, shoving his hands nervously into the front pockets of his sweatpants, avoiding eye contact.

Derek then finally looked back up at Stiles, and at seeing the questioning look in his eyes, he simply nodded.

“Yeah. Since your junior year.”

He looked at him a second longer, and then, mentally deciding _screw it,_ he reached up with both hands and pulled Derek down into another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than their first one, and then murmured against his lips, “I’ve wanted you that long, too…god, we are _idiots_.”

“No argument there.”

Stiles swung his head up, shocked to hear Boyd, of all people, making a smart remark at their expense. He smirked back at the two of them as he grabbed another piece of szarlotka, pressed a kiss to Erica’s forehead, and then mumbled under his breath as he left the kitchen, “Goin’ back to bed,” while Stiles stared at his back in surprise.

He then looked at Erica, who shrugged at him and at the rest of the pack, all of them surprised by Boyd’s comment, and she said, “What? You do realize I fell in love with him for a reason, right? How the hell do you think he puts up with me? He’s even more judgmental than I am,” she explained, arching an eyebrow at them, “He just knows how to keep his mouth shut…”

She grabbed a cinnamon roll, popped it between her teeth, and then headed back towards the living room, where she’d left her stocking. Everyone just shook their heads and went back to their breakfasts, all of them seemingly over the fact that Derek and Stiles were now, somehow, together. Stiles was still feeling off-balance at the fact that Derek returned his feelings, but he was willing to accept it and move on. In fact, now that he thought back on it, they’d been acting like a couple for a while, and might have been (sort of) co-parenting the pack.

It was wonderful and Stiles smiled when Derek slipped an arm around his waist as he grabbed a piece of his own szarlotka, pleased with the apple flavor that burst over his tongue, wondering if Derek would be having any and how it would taste on his tongue…oh, boy. He felt a part of himself taking interest at the thought, so he quickly shut it down.

They went and sat at the table, Stiles moving towards one of the chairs, and was taken off guard when Derek suddenly pulled him onto his lap.

“Hey! What the hell--?”

Derek said nothing and simply pressed his nose into Stiles’ neck, causing him to let out a noise that he didn’t know he was capable of making, and Allison, who sat across from them, let out another giggle as Stiles attempted to struggle, but soon found it useless as the alpha held him fast in his unyielding arms.

“Okay, guess we’re moving straight from the awkward stage to the disgusting, overly-affectionate-couple-in-public-that-everyone-hates stage,” he muttered, making himself as comfortable as he could on Derek’s lap, taking another bite of his piece of szarlotka. “You gonna let me up off your lap anytime soon, sourwolf?”

Derek shook his head and pretty much nuzzled into him, tightening his hold on his waist and shoving his nose and lips down towards his exposed collarbone, breathing deeply, and even though Stiles acted like he was annoyed by it, the truth was that it made him feel loved and wanted. He had seen Scott do the same thing with Allison, as well as Isaac, and had seen it between Erica and Boyd fairly often, though the large beta was usually fairly discreet about it, and had seen Jackson do it with both Lydia and Liam, even though he’d tried to hide his affections towards Liam, all in vain.

It made Stiles feel like he finally had a place within the pack and he silently preened under the attention, ignoring the eyerolls sent in his direction from Jackson, who was still sitting on the edge of the counter, peeling apart a cinnamon roll, while Lydia rested between his thighs, her head on his chest, picking at a piece of piernik with her fingers, tearing off small bites.

Stiles then felt a surge of warmth in his chest when Derek moved his mouth behind his ear and breathed out, “Thank you for building this home with me, Stiles…”

He turned his head slightly and caught Derek’s gaze, and saw that his eyes were unguarded, completely open, and it just about took his breath away, but he managed to say back to him, “You’re welcome, Derek. You know that I love you, right? That that’s why I’ve stayed all these years?”

The alpha’s mouth dropped open and he licked his lips.

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to hear the words, though he knew that he didn’t need them because he knew exactly how Derek felt about him just from the way that he was acting, so he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then turned back to the table and grabbed a cinnamon roll for himself, smiling when he saw Scott lean in and rest his head against Allison’s shoulder.


	5. I Think We're Alone Now...Mostly

There was an overall feeling of contentment settling over the Hale pack, and Stiles suddenly realized that he didn’t have to leave. He didn’t have to _leave!_ Derek had given him a room with him, and everyone wanted him there, and they all seemed to accept him as a co-alpha of sorts alongside Derek, and…my god, he could _stay._ As it finally hit him, he felt a grin stretch across his face and he knew that it wouldn’t be going away any time soon, and he was perfectly fine with it.

Eventually they all made there way back to the living room and seized all of their presents and ill-gotten gains from their stockings and headed up to their separate rooms.

Liam and Isaac were the first ones to leave, however, thundering down the stairs and running outside to spend more time in the snow. Stiles was fairly certain that Erica and Boyd were celebrating in their own particular way that he didn’t want to know about, and that Lydia had most _definitely_ gone back to sleep.

He wasn’t sure about the rest of the pack, but all thoughts of them went from his mind as soon as he approached Derek’s bedroom door.

 _No_ , he silently corrected himself, Our _bedroom door._

He nervously thumbed the key in his hand and Derek stepped up right behind him, his hands once more going to Stiles hips, and Stiles couldn’t help but comment, “Okay, I think you have a fetish for my hips, because it’s like you can’t keep your hands off of them,” and Derek snorted and then chuckled and whispered into his ear, “Maybe I do…why don’t you open up the door and we can find out?”

Oh, boy.

Still nervous, but now for an entirely different reason than before, Stiles stepped forward and pushed the key into the lock…and then turned it. As he pushed the door open, he looked around the room to see if he could tell what the man had changed. The bed was a queen, but the first difference that he noticed after that was that there was a desk in the corner of the massive room and that the desk had a wi-fi router on it, along with a small mini-fridge right underneath it, and through the glassed front he saw his favorite soda stocked all the way up to the top. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing that Derek had set up his own internet separate from the rest of the pack, as well as had sacrificed the space where he used to keep his weights.

He walked the rest of the way into the room, squeezing the key in between his fingers, vaguely aware of the fact that Derek closed the door behind them and locked it, taking in everything else.

The walls were no longer dark brown, but now a sage green, and Derek had laid down a thick oriental rug onto the floor, rich in creams, reds, black lines, and green leaves, which was a perfect complement to the walls of the room. The dresser looked bigger than the previous one, and Stiles walked over and pulled open a drawer…and smiled when he saw a couple of his own sweaters tucked right on top.

“So, you went ahead and stole some of my clothes, huh?” he teased, fiddling with the string on the hood, but Derek just shrugged and openly admitted, “I wanted to smell you near me. Room didn’t smell right.”

He then walked up to Stiles and tugged at the edge of his shirt to pull him closer and said, “And now that you’re here, it’s going to be _very_ hard for me to let you leave,” and then Stiles felt lips being pressed to his neck, a wet tongue sliding along his carotid, along with warm hands slipping up under the back of his shirt.

Oh, holy god, he was about to pass out.

He had gone from being completely oblivious to Derek’s affections to suddenly being seduced in the man’s bedroom in under two hours, and he wasn’t entirely sure that his brain could handle it. So, in a desperate measure to gain some semblance of control, he reached down and gently pulled the alpha’s hands off of him.

“Hey, hey…easy there, big guy. We’ve got all the time in the world, now, so why don’t we just, you know…take it slow?”

At that, Derek glared at him and practically growled out, “We’ve been taking it slow for nearly _five years_ , Stiles. How about we finally get up to speed, hm?”

And then Stiles was suddenly flat on his back in the middle of the bed with two hundred and fifteen pounds of sheer muscle on top of him. He should have been suffocating, but instead all that came though in his head was, _Oh, holy hell, he feels so_ good.

His entire body was pressed in between his thighs in the absolute _best_ way and Stiles suddenly knew that he was probably going to be the neediest bottom ever. He had visions in his head of Derek flipping him over and using him to get off while Stiles just lay there on his stomach, helpless, and he didn’t think that he’d ever been so turned on in his life. Stiles knew, though, that he was going to need plenty of prep before something like that happened.

Derek had slid his hands back up under Stiles’ shirt, and was obviously trying to strip it off him, so he raised his arms and helped him and then turned the tables and reached down and pulled Derek’s shirt off, as well, so that they were on equal footing. Both of them were hard, rutting up against each other, their’ pajama bottoms offering little protection between the two of them.

Derek breathed against Stiles lips, both of them open mouthed and gasping for air as they each tried to gain better friction through their sleep pants.

Finally, feeling irritated and annoyed by the barrier, Stiles moved his hands down the alpha’s unfairly chiseled chest to his bottoms and tugged at them as hard as he could, and let out a sigh of relief when they easily slid off, and then Derek was naked on top of him, kicking off the pants behind him to fall down somewhere on the floor. Derek grinned at him, pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth and then ran his nose down Stiles’ chest to his stomach and then slid his hands under his pajamas so that they were cupping his ass, where he then squeezed once, causing Stiles to clench, and then pulled them down _just_ enough so that his cock popped out.

Stiles gasped as wet lips engulfed the tip of his erection and sucked. _Hard._ Oh, god, what a way to go. Instinctively, he tried to thrust up into Derek’s mouth, but Derek simply held him down with his effortless strength, suckling at just the tip, his tongue darting out every so often to trace the vein on the underside.

Strangled sounds that he didn’t know he was capable of making escaped him, and he gasped and writhed as the older man moved one hand further between his thighs and pressed firmly on the patch of skin just behind his… _oh, fuck._

Stiles knew that he was about to blow, and managed to gasp out a warning, “Derek…I’m almost…god, please, not…not yet…”

It seemed to be enough because he did as he asked and moved his hand away and lifted up from the now glistening tip of his cock, precum sticking to his lips, a thick strand of it still sticking to the head of his cock and Derek’s mouth, and then Derek looked up at him with hooded, dilated eyes and Stiles was afraid that he would blow his load anyway, just from that look. He then licked his lips, breaking the strand, and rose up to meet him, their mouths connecting sloppily, and Stiles could taste part of himself on his lips and it should have been a turn off, but it _really_ wasn’t.

Instead, he leaned into it, licking into Derek’s mouth, the taste reminding him of what the man had just been doing to him, and he suddenly had the urge to do the same to him, but he knew that unless the alpha allowed it, then there was no way that he was going to get any leverage to turn him over and return the favor.

Curious to see if he would let him, he gently pushed at Derek’s shoulder…and shuddered when the man let him turn him over to his back and Stiles straddled him.

The feeling of power, though fake, was heady, and Stiles quickly used the momentary lull to pull his own pajama pants off the rest of the way and threw them to join Derek’s on the floor, and then put his knees to either side of Derek’s hips and pressed his hands to the man’s chest, scraping his fingernails through the hair, loving the contrasting feel of coarse hair and smooth skin.

He took a moment to lean down and press his forehead to Derek’s.

“God, I love you,” he breathed out and then buried his head into Derek’s neck, a semblance of what Derek had done to him earlier, running his tongue along his pulse point and softly grinding down over the man’s prodigious erection. “I love you so much, Derek…”

He felt him swallow against his lips and he replied, “I love you, too, Stiles…”

Unable to help himself, Stiles lifted his eyes and smirked at him and said, “Then you probably won’t mind if I do this, would you?” and slid down his front until Derek’s erection was at eye level, and then flicked his tongue out tentatively, not having done it before, but knowing what he himself liked, and he heard Derek curse above him, and a soft thump told him that he’d thrown his head backwards into the pillow.

He took shameless advantage of his position and slid his hands under Derek’s ass and used the leverage to hold him closer to his mouth. Eager, but also cautious, he wrapped his lips around the tip and gently sucked…and he was _hooked_. Derek tasted amazing, and Stiles suddenly had the thought that he needed to get the rest of Derek’s dick into his mouth at that very moment. He knew better than to rush it, so instead inched down bit by bit, savoring every sound that fell from Derek’s lips.

He could feel that Derek was trying to keep from thrusting into his mouth, and for that he was grateful.

His lips stretched as he moved a little bit further down his cock and it felt good, especially when he heard Derek let out a strangled gasp when he softly squeezed the flesh under his fingers. Stiles memorized the feel and taste of the skin of Derek’s cock on his tongue, desperate to have even more.

He wanted to taste all of him. No matter what.

When he hit the back of his throat, Stiles noticed there were still at least three more inches, so he reluctantly let go with one hand and moved it to wrap around the base of his cock, his lips meeting his fingers, and then slowly pulled back, sucking strongly the entire time, and Derek gasped out, “Ah, Stiles!” and so he slid back down, enveloping him once more in the heat of his mouth. As he bobbed up and down on his cock, he quickly felt himself developing an oral fixation. Oh, he couldn’t wait to do this all the time.

He didn’t know how long he was down there, worshipping his cock, but it was long enough that his jaw started to ache, and then Derek reached down and touched his fingertips to his shoulder and Stiles felt the ache in his jaw dissipate and he grinned to himself, finding it amusing that the alpha was using his healing abilities during sex.

Encouraged, he sucked a bit more forcefully, and then was pleased when Derek let out a hoarse shout and then called out, “Stiles, I’m…I’m gonna…”

And then he burst over the back of his tongue and he swallowed it down as best he could, enjoying every tremor and twitch of Derek’s body beneath his as he cleaned him up with teasing licks along the crown of his cock as he gently let him slip from his mouth.

He looked up at the man, and he swore he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Derek’s body was soaked with sweat, as well as his hair, and an errant strand curled over his forehead, damply clinging to his skin, drawing Stiles’ attention to his eyes which were wide…and bleeding a faint red. Oh, now _that_ was hot. And then he looked down at Derek’s mouth, which was open wide, panting, and Stiles took pride in the fact that he’d just taken the man’s breath away. He’d seen him run flat out for five miles and not be out of breath, but one blowjob from Stiles and he looked _wrecked._

Grinning, Stiles moved back up his body and pressed a kiss to the man’s jaw and then whispered into his ear, “You look so good right now,” and he felt Derek’s body shiver beneath him.

Just as he was about to say something else, he found their positions switched…and he let out a groan when Derek then moved Stiles from his back over to his front so that Stiles was spread out under him exactly the way that he had imagined when they had first started their rendezvous.

Derek pressed his chest to his back, hands on his shoulders, and then leaned down and nipped at Stiles’ neck with teeth that were sharper than they should have been.

“You have no idea how good you smell right now,” he murmured, laving his tongue across the back of his neck, sliding down to his spine and then Stiles realized that he was letting out faint mewls as the older man proceeded to dip his tongue into every little divot as he traced his way down his back. And then…

“Oh, holy god,” Stiles breathed out as he felt a strong tongue slip between his cheeks. He’d never… _oh. God._

He tried to arch back into it, but Derek’s hands held him firmly down against the mattress and Stiles had never felt so helpless before in his life…or more helplessly turned on. Sure, he’d _read_ about this sort of thing before, and he’d seen it in a few of the porn videos he’d watched, but he’d never understood the appeal. Until now. And now he felt like every nerve ending was on fire as Derek slipped his tongue over and over his hole, urging him to loosen up for him, and soon his tongue was sliding inside, and Stiles was seeing stars.

He moaned into the pillow, gripping it as tightly as he dared, unashamedly biting into it, trying to figure out how to breathe.

And then he felt something blunt pressing into him, the pressure deliriously good, and he dared to glance back and down and realized that it was Derek’s finger, and he managed to say, “More,” but he sure that it came out more as a needy moan, because Derek looked back up at him, smirked, and then playfully dug his teeth into the flesh of his ass as he slid his finger the rest of the way in, all the way to the knuckle.

He slowly pumped it in and out of him and Stiles was almost crying because he kept on trying to move his hips to push further into it, but Derek held him fast, not letting him move.

After an interminable wait, Stiles felt a second finger breach him, which stung for a second, but then the alpha’s fingers curled in _just_ the right way… _holy shit._

Colors burst behind his eyelids as he stroked a spot inside of him that Stiles had never been able to quite reach with his own fingers, and he felt the tip of his cock spurt more precome, soaking the sheets under his stomach as Derek pressed up against it relentlessly, his tongue now tracing along the spot where his ass met his thigh, his fingers doing all the work. And then…a _third_ finger. Stiles gasped and struggled a bit more, arching his shoulders, doing everything he could to get Derek to go faster, harder, but he resolutely kept his sedate pace, brushing up on his prostate with every three strokes, or so. Holy shit, he wasn’t sure he was going to last, he thought to himself as he felt more precome drip from the head of his cock, staining the bedding even more.

He swore he felt Derek grin against him when he swore under his breath, because suddenly the fingers were gone, and Stiles felt shockingly empty, but then he felt Derek’s hands on his hips, hitching them up slightly higher than before, and then…

“Oooooh,” was all that he able to groan out as Derek entered him with his cock, already hard again, spearing him open.

It still hurt a little bit because Derek was _thick_ , but mostly what Stiles felt was a low thrum of pleasure in his stomach that started to lick up his back and down into his balls, and he didn’t want it to end. He did let out a gasp, though, when Derek kept on pushing in, wondering just how _big_ was the man?

The alpha suddenly stopped, and Stiles glanced over his shoulder and saw him with his eyes tightly closed, panting, the veins in his neck standing out as if he was holding himself back…and so Stiles glanced down. He _still_ wasn’t all the way in. Oh, god. He was going to be split in two. And he wanted every second of it.

Realizing Derek needed help, he reached back and slid his fingers over Derek’s, where they rested on his hip in a vice-like grip, noticed that Derek’s claws were out, and then said, licking his lips, “C’mon, big guy. Take me all the way, you can do it,” and Derek’s eyes snapped open at his words. They were bright red. Undeterred, and even more turned on, Stiles pulled at the man’s fingers, linked his through them, and added, “Please. I need you. All of you.”

And those seemed to be the magic words.

With a snarl, Derek tightened his grip on his hips even further, his claws lightly digging into his skin, and _shoved_ himself the rest of the way in and Stiles collapsed back onto the bed, his only points of contact with the sheets being his chest and arms, as Derek now held the back part of him up in the air effortlessly.

Stiles had never felt more full in his life. He’d played with dildos in the past, but this…god, _this_ was a million times better. Derek was stupidly thick and long and Stiles felt that if the man wasn’t holding him that his body would have split underneath all of the pressure. And in that particular position, it felt like the only thing that existed south of his waist was Derek’s cock. And then he started to thrust, and Stiles felt his eyes roll back in his head and he _knew_ that he wasn’t going to last.

Stiles managed to brace himself with his hands against the headboard as Derek pounded into him, at first with a steady rhythm, but then it started to pick up, and he was going faster and faster and Stiles felt tears forming at the corner of his eyes with how _good_ it all felt. It was completely overwhelming, in the absolute _best_ way.

He felt his cock rise even more and then, on one particularly well-aimed thrust, he felt his balls draw up tight against him and he knew that he was close.

“Der, I’m, I’m…I’m close,” he gasped out, unsure if the man was even aware of anything at that point, because all he heard behind him was grunting and the occasional growl, but apparently Derek heard him, because his response was to tighten his grip even further and pull him down even harder onto his cock, and his thrusts became harder and more erratic, and then he was leaning over his back and his teeth bit into the back of Stiles’ neck and--

Stiles cried out as he came, thick lines of come spilling from him and onto the bed beneath him, and he could feel Derek still thrusting and--whoa, what the hell--he was getting bigger?

And then his mind flashed back to some research he’d done years ago and supplied him the answer: _knotting._

He cried out a second time at the unexpected pressure from the base of Derek’s cock that was now pressing _directly_ onto his prostate and drawing out his orgasm longer than he knew was possible, and he sobbed at the onslaught of pleasure that wouldn’t let up, still coming, and then sobbed some more when he felt the sticky wet heat painting his insides as Derek came inside him, and his eyes rolled up in his head and he felt faint as the world went black around him.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when he finally came back to himself, he found them on the floor on a pile of thick blankets, Derek’s cock still inside of him, and he moved a little, just to see if he could, and Derek hissed when his knot tugged at the edge of his hole and pulled him closer, murmuring into his ear from where he was curled up behind him, “Not yet, Stiles…it’s gonna be a while longer before I can…I can pull out.”

He sounded embarrassed, so Stiles reassured him by lifting his hand up and running it through the alpha’s hair and said, “Hey, it’s okay. You just gave me the most amazing orgasm of my life. You’re not gonna hear me complaining any time soon,” and Derek let out a sigh into his shoulder and ran his hand over Stiles’ side and then lightly thrusted into him, as if making himself more comfortable, and Stiles let out a sigh of his own and added, “God, that feels good…”

He heard Derek hum behind him, and just from the sound, Stiles knew he was still feeling unsure.

Desperate to let him know that he hadn’t done anything wrong, Stiles said, “Okay, so the knotting was a surprise, but I enjoyed every single second of it. Obviously,” he drawled, grinning as he rolled his eyes. “It’s not every day that I have an orgasm so strong that I blackout.”

At that, he turned his head to look Derek in the eye and saw a small, albeit smug grin cross his lips.

Derek then worried his bottom lip between his teeth and then said, “So…you really liked it?”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh and replied, “Yeah, big guy. I really, _really_ liked it. And, just you know, the knotting wasn’t a _huge_ surprise,” he admitted and chuckled again when Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “I did some research way back when Scott was first turned and it took me to some, uh, questionable websites. I didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t, so I ignored most of it, but might have been a little too interested in some of it.”

Derek then shook his head and pressed his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder and said, “Of course, you did.”

Stiles went to turn his head a bit further…but winced as he felt some sort of soreness on the back of his neck. What the…? He reached up a hand and felt around, and then felt Derek’s fingers entwine with his and move them both to what felt like a wound that was already healing.

“Derek, what…?”

He didn’t finish the question, but the alpha answered anyway, explaining, “It’s a mating bite. It won’t turn you, just…it’s sort of a claiming mark, declaring you off limits to anyone that might try and take you from the pack. This lets everyone know that you’re mine.” He went a bit quiet, and then said, “I’m sorry. I just…it was the heat of the moment, and you felt so good on me and you smelled so good and willing, that I just…I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry,” he apologized a second time, and Stiles shook his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t be,” he said, lightly thrusting his ass back onto Derek’s knot, reminding him that they were still joined, causing them both to softly moan. “I wanted this. All of this. I will always want all of you, Der…you understand that, right? That I will _always_ want all of you? That’s why I said it…”

He let his voce drift and smiled when Derek buried his nose into his neck and breathed him in, licking at the bite…

…and then Derek was rolling him to his front and lightly thrusting into him a second time, his knot catching deliciously on the edge of Stiles’ rim, making him groan.

He then continued to thrust, and Stiles felt helpless, his still neglected cock being forced to rut into the soft pile of blankets beneath him.

“Yes, Derek,” he breathed out and that seemed to be the spark he needed, because he began to move his hips faster, pistoning at a speed that no human could hope to match, and Stiles groaned when he felt Derek’s knot swell up a bit more. It only took a few more thrusts and then they were both coming, Stiles crying out as his prostate was relentlessly pressed up against and he continued to come, baffled that he still had anything left in him after last time.

They then collapsed on the blankets in a tangle of hot and sweaty limbs, and Stiles welcomed the weight of him on his back, and said, “Boy, you _really_ like me, huh?”

And Derek broke out into uncharacteristic giggles and then pressed his forehead into the back of Stiles’ shoulder and said, “Yeah, uh…sorry about that. It’ll take a while for it to go down, again. Uh, you just…you just smell really good with my scent inside you. I kind of really like it…”

Stiles smiled and reached around and patted at Derek’s side, and said, “It’s all good. Now, how about we do nothing for a while and then clean up and go back down for some more food?”

Derek nodded and nuzzled into him, rolling them back over to their sides.

“Sounds good,” he said, already halfway asleep, and Stiles smiled as the alpha unconsciously tugged him closer to his hips.

\--

A couple hours later, they made their way back downstairs, both of them having showered after they woke up, deciding it would be best if they _didn’t_ share the shower. It proved to be the better idea, as they actually got done in time.

The instant they walked into the living room, however, both of them heading over to retrieve their stockings, Jackson scrunched up his nose and gave both of them a judgmental look.

“Okay, _seriously?”_ he said, “What did you two do? Have an all-out orgy?”

Derek flushed a dark red, so Stiles straightened his shoulders and glared right back at the beta and said, “You’re just pissed that I got sexed up today and you haven’t,” and Isaac snorted, Liam choked on his bite of cinnamon roll, Scott groaned, and both of the girls rolled their eyes.

He sat back down on the couch, wincing slightly as he did, noticing Derek shoot him a small smirk at seeing his reaction. Stiles ignored him and went back to his candy, popping in several pieces of chocolate at once, feeling absolutely famished. He’d burned a lot of calories and in the best way possible. Despite the slight soreness, he was excited to do it again, and looked back over at Derek and gave him a secretive smile, biting his lip as he thought about what else the two of them could do.

Lydia, who sat at Stiles’ feet with her back to the couch, arched her neck and looked up at them and said, “Glad to see the two of you happy. You deserve it,” she added, looking over at Derek.

Stiles saw that he was feeling awkward and so decided to close the remaining distance between them and rested his head on the alpha’s shoulder, knowing that Derek would have trouble initiating such casual, intimate touching between the two of them. Derek was stiff for a moment, but then Stiles gently slid his fingers into his and squeezed his hand and he felt the older man’s entire body relax under his touch.

After a brief second of everyone staring at them, they all went back to their stockings and their presents and Stiles held in a snort when he heard Scott complaining about the socks Liam had gotten him.

They stayed that way for a long while, and soon Stiles’ head had drifted to Derek’s lap, and the alpha started running his fingers through his hair. It was soothing and lulled him into a not-quite-state of sleep. He was floating between being awake and being asleep, enjoying the soft attention of Derek’s fingers as they trailed along his hairline, through it, and then gently moved down to trace the nearly healed mating mark on the back of his neck.

As he pressed him thumb to it, Stiles blearily muttered, “All yours, Derek,” and he glanced up and saw through sleepy eyes that Derek was smiling.

Derek smiled back at him.

“All mine,” he whispered, his fingers still running over the scar.

Things were fairly quiet, until Liam suddenly spoke up from his spot sprawled between Lydia and Jackson, his legs on Lydia’s lap, his head on Jackson’s thigh, and asked, “When’s dinner? I’m starving,” to which Allison responded from her place closest to the fireplace with Scott’s head in her lap, “You just _ate!_ Didn’t you have, like, three cinnamon rolls and five pieces of Stiles’ desserts?”

Before Liam could give a rebuttal, Lydia said, “Yes, he did, but he has like, three stomachs or something when it comes to food. Now, if I remember correctly,” she said, glancing up at Stiles and Derek, “We already have a whole bunch of prepared food, we just have to heat it up, right?” Stiles nodded as best he could from his position, and she smiled and said, gently shoving Liam’s legs off her own, “Then in that case, let’s let Derek and Stiles have a break while you and I,” she pointed at Scott, pulling a groan from him, “Go reheat the food. It’s the least we could do, Scott, considering we didn’t help out much this holiday,” she said, walking over and pulling him up from his comfortable spot.

Stiles snorted in amusement as he watched his friend get dragged off to the kitchen to help prepare (a word he loosely used) dinner for the pack.

Derek then said lowly into Stiles’ ear, “What are the chances that they’ll burn the food?” and Stiles shrugged as best he could and answered, “Eh, fifty-fifty,” and Derek’s expression looked slightly worried as he turned his gaze over his shoulder back towards the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” Stiles said, patting his knee. “Lydia will make sure Scott doesn’t ruin everything.”

Derek nodded, but his mouth was still in a thin line, so Stiles decided to distract him by asking, “Hey, by the way, why did your mom and dad put their names on the inside of the front door when they moved in?” and Derek turned his attention back to him and smiled at the question.

“A friend of theirs actually helped them build the house, so, when they put the front door in, the last piece, they thought it would be good to mark it with their names to show that they had a place that they could always call home.” His voice drifted, and Stiles could tell from the faraway look in his eyes that he was remembering them. “When you helped put this place back together…that was when I knew.” He looked down at him and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “That was when I knew that I needed to keep you with me. Always. And when you carved your name next to mine…I just knew.”

Stiles smiled up at him and then reached up and gently pulled him down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you, sourwolf,” he murmured against his lips as they parted, and Derek grinned when he added, “Merry Christmas.”

“The best Christmas,” he replied, darting in and placing a quick kiss on his nose and Stiles smiled.

As they settled back into each other, he mused that the two of them had really gotten the best gifts that they ever could have gotten. Each other. Derek adjusted himself so that Stiles was now pressed along his entire side, him on his back and Derek on his side with his back to the back of the sofa, one leg thrown over both of Stiles. They were nearly asleep when--

\--“What the _hell_ did you do?” screeched Lydia. “I said put it in for one minute!!”

“I did!” yelled back Scott and they could both smell smoke coming from the kitchen, along with the acrid smell of burnt food, and then they heard Lydia say, “No, you idiot, you put it in for _ten_ minutes. God! That’s it! Out of the kitchen!”

They heard a scuffle and then a thump as Scott landed on his ass on the floor just beyond their view.

“And _don’t_ come back in here!”

Stiles felt Derek shaking next to him and then looked up just as Derek broke into laughter and Stiles then broke into giggles, himself, and managed to gasp out, “They’re your pack, Derek! You’ve got no one but yourself to blame,” to which Derek replied, finally getting his laughter under control, “No, they’re _our_ pack,” and Stile breath caught in his throat.

Yeah.

They were _their_ pack.


End file.
